


House Arrest

by Chouhan



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Also avoiding punishment by smooth talking his way out of it, Loosely based on support interactions, M/M, My writing style is called rust and decay, Royal sibling dynamics are mentioned, Slight angst at the end but it quickly recovers, This is just fluff and Laslow being flustered in general, Xander gets a bit snarky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 09:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10896708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chouhan/pseuds/Chouhan
Summary: Xander scolds Laslow for getting into trouble again, and decides to not let him out of his sight for the day. Xander discovers why Laslow flirts as much as he does, and they both unravel some closely held secrets that the two of them have had in common, but didn’t know until now.





	House Arrest

“…and so, milord – as I was saying, and in my defense, I wasn’t throwing those punches _just_ to impress the bar maiden – I was defending her from the men who dared to impugn her honor! Still, you accuse me of harassing her... You wound me, my prince, if I may say so.”

Xander pinched the bridge of his nose and adjusted himself on his armchair, already having grown tired of their conversation three words in. He did not even bother to look at the man in front of him now; he knew he would only get incensed further if he were to see his expression as he tried to plead his case. Laslow had on him the innocent look of a child who had been caught stealing cookies from the jar, deciding that the best way to hide his theft was to stuff it all in his mouth. _Nothing more incriminating than that, I can assume._

(Besides, this was the fourth – no, was it the _fifth?_ – report that he had received of his retainer’s little mischievous escapades in neighboring towns within a fortnight, not to mention other testimonies from his peers and the servants that he had been skipping his training in order to be able to invite women out for tea. He felt the wrinkles between his brows deepening even further with each complaint he hears.)

Still, the prince mustered up all of his remaining patience and tried to keep his voice level, despite it being pinched with the annoyance he so obviously felt. 

“Oh, _indeed_? Would you, then, care to explain to me why it was the aforementioned bar maiden who filed the complaint against _you_ , claiming that _you_ were the one who engaged in the fight first? For all I know, Laslow, you may not possess the most brilliant mind there is in the army, but I thought I could count on you in making the _simplest_ of judgements. The man was drunk, and you were very, _very_ sober. You dare tell me that _he_ is the one in the wrong?”

The retainer in question grimaced, the prince’s statement hitting a sore nerve.

“…He was wrong, for getting drunk in the middle of the day, and trying to talk to that poor, defenseless lady in the first place, even if she didn’t want to have anything to do with him.”

Xander’s chest heaved with a deep sigh. Laslow’s jaw was set, his chin adamantly thrusted out at his liege, lips pursed and ready to argue. His bravado never ceased to impress him. 

Laslow was probably one of the few – if not the only one – in the entirety of Nohr who had the courage to talk back to him like that, as if they were equals. Not even Leo, who makes quips and snide remarks just as easily as he draws breath, or Elise, with all her sunshine and her easy, casual way of breaking down people’s walls, or even Camilla, who usually got her way by means of teasing and … “negotiation,” had the nerve to regard him in such a manner. They were always quick to apologize and retreat at the slightest darkening of his expression. (Xander’s anger was not a force to be trifled with.) 

Familiarity breeds contempt, perhaps, but Laslow had behaved familiarly with him, right from their first encounter. He found himself thrilled by it. Truth be told, if it was in any other situation, he would go as far as to consider this gesture cute, but right now he saw it as stubbornness, and it only served to stoke his irritation further. 

“So, you think you are in the right, and you have done good.”

Laslow swelled a little with pride, not quite catching the poison dripping from his tone. 

“If you care to put it like that, milord.”

“And you think you have saved that girl from a terrible fate.” 

“Yes. Of course. He had terrible breath, too.”

Xander glared at him reproachfully.

“And how is that man any different from you, and what you always do? Aren’t you the same as he is, sans the booze?”

Guilt blossomed fully on Laslow’s cheeks, painting his face red up to the tip of his ears. As if to add insult to injury, the prince added:

“I do not know which is worse – a drunken man hitting on a defenseless girl, or a sober skirt-chaser who clearly knows what he is doing and simply doesn’t know when to _stop_?”

If there was any good humor in Laslow’s face before, it is gone now. He looked genuinely hurt. Xander felt his heart twinge a little. Did he say too much? He didn’t want to be so harsh, but he must do what must be done. 

“…We’ve had this conversation before. In this very room. And it was also in this room that I confined you for the good part of a day, for several days, until you learned your lesson. Unfortunately, I will have to repeat the punishment.” 

His retainer nodded wistfully, remembering. Xander did not wait for a reply.

“You were more repentant back then. Where is this rebelliousness coming from? You have not lost your respect for me as your lord and liege, have you?”

“No, my lord, I have not!” came the quick reply. He had been looking at the floor, chagrined, but he raised his eyes to meet the prince’s, wide with pain. “That you would even suggest it…!”

His gaze softened, his anger soothed by the other’s answer. His voice was gentler when he spoke again.

“Then, answer me, if you think I deserve it – Laslow, why this fixation with women? What possesses you to do such things? Why flirt as much as you do?”

Laslow’s lips quirked into a smile, and he opened his mouth to answer, but Xander stopped him.

“Blaming it on the full moon is not an acceptable answer.”

“Ah.”

Laslow’s face fell, and for a moment he looked conflicted. His face really was like an open book. One could see in it almost every thought, every flicker of emotion that passes through him, as if it were something alive.

“…it was my mother’s doing, milord.”

Xander blanched. 

“Your mother taught you how to be a scoundrel?”

His retainer looked equally scandalized, making a wild gesture with his hands.

“NO! She… she taught me how to communicate with… with people. Back when I was a little boy, I had been so painfully shy, hiding behind her legs whenever I could, to avoid people’s gazes…” 

The prince stared at him intently as he talked, one brow raised in interest. He had the inclination to tease him about it – _You? Shy?_ – but the urge died down when he saw the look on his retainer’s face. The young man was looking at everywhere but him while he talked. Once, their gazes met, and Laslow had to look away and blush.

“She thought talking to women would be a good solution to my … to my problem.” 

He took a deep breath, rocking slightly on his heels, arms tucked behind his back, eyes still averted.

“Since then, I… I’ve taken a liking to it, and I haven’t been able to stop.”

Xander contemplated him for a moment, and smiled.

“...I see. She must have thought women would provide more comfort to you than men. After all, they are often more accommodating."

He paused. The swordsman raised a brow at him as well, waiting for him to say something else.

“It might not be known to you, but when I was younger, I was painfully shy, too. I didn’t know how to sustain conversations, and I would always falter if I tried to initiate them. I was not always like this… the crown prince that you know, rumored to be made of steel and stone.”

Laslow’s mouth was agape, shaped into a small ‘o’ of surprise at this sudden baring of secrets. Xander gave a small laugh under his breath.

“No need to be so astonished. I had been a child too, thrust headfirst into the world of politics and warfare without so much as a hand to hold… Unlike you, I was not able to experience the luxury of having a doting mother to get me through it. I was the firstborn, heir to the throne, expected to be pristine in everything that I do, and yet I was unable to do such a simple thing as talk to the people who needed my attention… Communication is key to good leadership, so I found myself a solution. I forced myself to talk to people who intimidated me, until I no longer got intimidated by them.”

Laslow chuckled. 

“Now _they’re_ the ones intimidated by _you_.”

“Precisely. Shameful to say, I still get cold feet every now and then. When the time comes that I feel scrutinized by all those gazes, I imagine them as bunnies.”

The younger man snorted, then tossed his head back to let out a peal of laughter. The prince’s smile only grew wider at the pleasant sound.

“ _Bunnies_ , you say? That’s… that’s unexpectedly _cute_ of you, Lord Xander!”

Xander let out a scoff of indignation and shook his head, though he took no true offense at his words. When his laughter died down, Laslow smiled back at him, comfortably. 

“There’s no shame in being afraid of anything, milord. I can’t say I’ve truly gotten over my shyness, now… I still flinch when I feel people staring too much, especially when I dance and I think no one’s watching, but they’re there…”

Xander stopped and blinked at him in awe.

“You dance?”

Laslow gulped, fidgeting with his collar nervously with gloved fingers. 

“I… er… yes? I-I do, but…”

“You must show me, some time.” 

Laslow’s face was redder than the roses blooming in the palace gardens, now. He seemed hesitant, but his answer sounded eager, despite being shy.

“If… the opportunity arises.”

“I’m sure it will.” He said, truly pleased. He had heard rumors about Laslow’s dancing, but he never thought of them as more than fanciful rumors, nor had he the opportunity to see it for himself. He heard that it was beautiful. He said as much to the other, who allowed himself a little smile of his own.

“It was my mother who taught me how.”

“She must have been very good to you.”

“Yes. She loved me with all her heart.”

Xander didn’t know how to respond to that, not being able to relate, but he hummed in agreement. Laslow’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, then, and his joy twisted into ache. 

“…She died protecting me.”

Xander didn’t know how to respond to that, either.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be; in a way, she is alive… No, not in a way. She really, _truly_ is alive, and when this war is over, I-…”

He stopped himself, then, as if he had said too much. 

Xander asked him what was wrong, but he only shook his head.

“...I’m sorry, milord. I didn’t mean to burden you with my troubles. But there you have a satisfactory answer. The reason why I flirt is, indeed, because of my mother, and not the full moon… though you cannot blame her for, as you so kindly put it, turning me into a ‘scoundrel.’ That was my fault entirely.” The familiar cheeky grin was back on his face in a heartbeat, as if none of the previous conversations had truly transpired, or held weight.

“Still, I’m sorry, too, for all the trouble I’ve caused. It hurt my pride, but you were right… if I continue like this, I’d be hated, and I’d be bringing less and less women out for tea. I must learn to be a proper gentleman, worthy of my lord, before anything else,” The look of sheer determination on his face was impressive. 

“And who else better to learn from than the most gentlemanliest, most regal knight in shining armor in all of Nohr, Prince Xander—”

“Stop. I change my mind. You’re dismissed.”

“So… no house arrest for me today?”

The prince let out an exasperated sigh.

“No. You may leave, Laslow. And I’d better not hear any other incriminating reports today.”

The young man beamed, ever glad to get out of his punishment unscathed.

“Thank you, sire!”

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I wrote anything, this is mostly a character study of sorts and nothing much happens aside from conversations... I'm sorry, I'll write a more dynamic one when it's not 2am and I'm not quite dying from lack of sleep, laughs (hopefully it was still enjoyable, though!)
> 
> Talk to me on twitter @chou19_feif! I draw a lot of stuff too!


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